


The Sexual Misadventures of Merlin

by Darkriver



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Figging, M/M, Sexual Humor, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkriver/pseuds/Darkriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur hurt his back. Naturally, it's Merlin's fault. Arthur needs to be taken care of. Merlin proves he is the best servant ever.</p>
<p>Written entirely because it amused me and I love the way the boys play with each other. Early S1, but nothing show specific.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sexual Misadventures of Merlin

“Ow, dammit, ow….” 

“Aren’t you Knights supposed to bear pain stoically?” Merlin asked his liege sardonically. 

Arthur leaned more heavily on him in retribution, making the gangly boy nearly collapse from his bulk. “Considering how much pain I’m in, this _is_ me being stoic. Stop yanking me so much.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes at the big baby and stopped at the stairs. “Oh dear,” he murmured, looking up the long flight of steps that stood between him and Arthur’s chambers. 

It would be simple if he could just magic his whinging lord upstairs, but of course he couldn’t do that. No, _that_ would be unethical and immoral. As would clobbering the blond prince unconscious so he could do it without a witness. He shifted the prince’s arm about his shoulders a little and looked around for a guard or three to help. 

“What are we standing around for?” Arthur demanded. 

There were always guards around when he was up to no good, but never when he actually needed them. That was among the many injustices life held, Merlin felt. Huffing in annoyance, he started to help his lord up the stairs, one step at a time. It was arduous, the more so because the further they went, the more Arthur played up his injury. 

“My back is on fire,” the big baby lamented. 

Merlin’s gaze went flat. His own back was hurting from carrying the blond prince, and _he_ wasn’t complaining. Not that he had anyone to complain _to_ , but the principal remained. 

They finally reached the royal bedchamber, which was messier than usual because Merlin had forgotten laundry day. He unceremoniously dumped Arthur on the bed and stepped back, face red from the strain. 

“Well, come on, tuck me in,” Arthur ordered. 

“Come off it,” Merlin retorted. “You’re not that hurt.” 

Arthur glowered at him. “Might I remind you that this is _your_ fault.” 

It was, honestly, but even if it wasn’t Merlin had faith that Arthur would find a way to blame him anyway. “Fine.” 

He started to tug off Arthur’s boots, who whined and told him to not yank so hard. This was a game that Merlin knew well, since he had played it many times himself with his Mom. He did not doubt at all that Arthur was not nearly as incapacitated as he was putting on, but Merlin was powerless to say anything about it. 

He wasn’t very good about the rules of his station, but that one he had down pretty well. 

Merlin was positive he caught a little smirk from the prince at one point, but it disappeared as soon as he fixed on it. Arthur hissed in pain when his servant started to strip off his clothes, and for once it didn’t sound faked. Somewhere under all the drama was a real injury. 

“I’ll have Gaius whip up something for you,” Merlin told him with a mildly conciliatory tone. He slipped the Prince’s nightshirt over his head and helped him wriggle into it. “And I’ll tell your father you are too injured for court duties—” 

Arthur looked at him with genuine panic in his eyes. “Don’t. Just tell him I’ve gone hunting. He never asks after me when he knows that.” 

“Oh come on,” Merlin complained. “You have a legitimate reason for missing duty and you want me to _lie_ to him?” 

Merlin did not enjoy the results of covering for his lord to the King. His hair smelled like salad for a week afterwards. 

“Pain is not a legitimate reason,” Arthur told him sternly, climbing under his covers. 

Merlin sighed heavily. Why Destiny had saddled him with the spoiled Prince was beyond him; unless Destiny was a bloke with a really vicious sense of humor. 

“Fine.” 

“And close the curtains? The sun’s in my eyes.” 

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “Anything else?” 

“Some stew would be lovely.” 

Merlin stared at him. “Yes, sire,” he said and turned for the door. 

“Oh, and Merlin?” 

He stopped dead. “Yes, sire?” 

“A few more pillows, please.” 

Merlin glanced back at the Prince, who was smiling smugly. The boy took a deep breath and then nodded. “Of course, sire." He turned to go again. 

“You forgot the curtain, Merlin.” 

He stomped over to them and jerked them closed. 

“And stoke up the fire? It’s chilly in here.” 

Merlin sighed in a very put-upon way and did as told and then fixed his liege with a chilly stare. “Will that be all?” 

Arthur’s face was the picture of innocence. “For now.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes and departed. He hated being treated like a servant, even though he _was_ a servant and really, as jobs went, it wasn’t so bad. Arthur just had to be so pushy about it. Sure, it was Merlin’s fault he was hurt, but that was very little justification for milking this the way he was. 

Merlin returned later with the pillows under one arm, the salve Gaius had made for Arthur’s back in a pocket and the scorchingly hot bowl of soup in the other hand. That unfortunately left him with no appendage to open the door with, something he had failed to plan for. 

He glanced left. 

He glanced right. 

What Gaius didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, after all, and he whispered a quick incantation that caused the door to creak open. 

“What took you so long?” Arthur demanded. 

Merlin threw him a withering look. “I had to go find some aloe for the medicine. I also had to make sure no one noticed me bringing soup to a room that’s supposed to be empty.” 

“That’s surprisingly perceptive of you, Merlin. I’m shocked.” 

Merlin couldn’t help but be amused, since the prince was smiling as he said it. He put the soup down and had his liege lean forward so he could put the pillows into place. 

“No, they’re too high,” Arthur said when he leaned back again. 

Merlin nodded and moved them around. 

“Now they’re too low.” 

Merlin arranged and rearranged the pillows until he was considering smothering Arthur with them, but finally the prince deemed the arrangement “adequate.” 

“Right, then, I’ll come back and apply that ointment in a bit, then.” 

Arthur gave him a shocked look. 

That look always meant he had messed something up. Merlin looked around in a panic. “What? What did I do?” 

“You can’t expect me to feed myself in my injured state. It hurts to even lift my arms.” 

Merlin eyed him in utter disbelief for a moment. Then he saw the man’s lips begin to tug upwards and he got the joke. He laughed a little and shook his head, glad that his lord was finally acknowledging the mean game he was playing. 

He sat on the edge of the bed. “If you expect me to blow on it, you’re daft.” 

Arthur chuckled and accepted the first spoonful of broth. “My back really does hurt like the devil, you know. It’s a good thing no one was in the stable to see what happened.” 

“It was pretty funny, yeah.” Merlin’s smile died at the look on Arthur’s face. “More soup?” he suggested, offering another spoonful. 

Arthur took it. “Damned careless, Merlin. You’re supposed to make sure my gear is set properly.” 

Merlin colored, feeling ashamed of being an idiot once again. “I was sure I had those stirrups cinched properly, sire.” 

“Obviously, you were wrong.” 

Obviously. Arthur had been climbing into the saddle when, in mid swing, the stirrup under his foot had given out and the blond prince fell badly onto a bale of hay. 

“Ah, well, happy day, as you said, no one saw.” 

“No one must ever know,” Arthur told him. “The Prince falling off his horse…. I’d be a laughingstock.” 

“Right, no one will know, no laughingstock.” 

“Why you insist on humiliating me, I really don’t know.” 

“I don’t do it on purpose, sire.” _Though if I did, I could offer some reasons, believe me._ He fed the young man another spoonful, finding he didn’t really mind playing nursemaid. Arthur got less bratty when he got his way, which made life easier. 

“No, I know it’s just because you’re an idiot. It’s part of your charm.” 

Merlin was not aware he had “charm.” He was certainly not aware that Arthur had any feeling about him other than “Why have I been cursed with this useless manservant?” 

“Thank you?” he said, not sure how to reply to the compliment. 

“Well, don’t let it run away with you. Now, if we can apply that ointment, I think I’ll sleep.” 

Merlin nodded, a slightly silly smile on his face at knowing that the Prince thought he was charming, albeit in an idiotic way. 

They rearranged so Arthur was on his stomach on the bed, his nightshirt tucked up under his arms. Merlin had seen his lord naked many times and in many ways, but he had never been in a situation where he was supposed to _touch_ him and that seemed wildly improper suddenly. Who was he to touch something so pure and perfect and beautiful and…. 

What was he thinking? Annoyed with himself for giving in to the idea that Arthur was better than he for any reason, he took the jar of salve that Gaius had made and popped off the lid. Sure, Arthur was handsome, if you liked them strong, perfectly-proportioned and blond. Merlin did not contest that his own bony frame paled by comparison. 

That did not make Arthur better than him, though. 

“Were you going to apply that salve or just stare at my bum?” 

Merlin’s cheeks flamed for no reason he could find. It was a nice bum, he supposed, very round and so on, but he hadn’t been staring at it. “The, er, lid was stuck,” he lied. 

“Get on with it then.” 

Arthur’s bossiness was not his most endearing trait, Merlin felt. He scooped out some of the medicine and rubbed it between his hands before reaching down and lightly applying it to his lord’s lower back. 

“Rub a little harder.” 

Merlin did so, worried about making the injury worse. He certainly didn’t want to give Arthur any reason to prolong playing sick. He massaged the healing salve around the injured area as Gaius had instructed and then reached for a towel. 

“That stuff feels nice. Do my upper back too.” 

Merlin felt this was definitely pushing it, but he had no real grounds for objection. He was going to have to chat with the dragon to determine just how necessary Arthur really was to the future or if perhaps he could be replaced with a less self-centered hero. 

The muscles were quite tense, though, and Merlin felt a twinge of sympathy. He knew Arthur carried a lot of responsibility and that his relationship with his father was less than perfect, and these were things Merlin would have cared more about if Arthur weren’t such a prat. Still, he _was_ the prince’s servant, and if he could help out a little…. 

He started to knead the blond man’s shoulders in a strong grip. Arthur let out a deep rumbling sigh of approval. Far be it from him to actually verbalize gratitude, Merlin thought, but kept working at him. The salve worked its magic (though not real magic, of course!) on those tensed up muscles as well. 

Merlin moved lower again, massaging the lower back with gentle, circular motions. The Prince was actually drooling into his pillow. The boy smiled and then stopped smiling when he heard the words, “go lower.” 

Well, it was all just skin, really, and why not? Merlin clasped the prince’s butt and kneaded those sculpted mounds in his slick fingers, eliciting another groan from Arthur. It occurred belatedly to Merlin that by doing this so well he was ensuring Arthur demanding it of him with frequency, but it was too late to go back now. 

Arthur wriggled a little. 

“Are you humping the bed?” 

“Shut up.” 

“You are!” Merlin gaped at him, half amused and half appalled and half something else which of course made no sense. 

“I think that’s all I’ll need today, Merlin. You may go.” 

The boy left, taking the dishes with him so they didn’t stink up the place. Then he returned to his room and pondered. He’d gotten the Prince sexually excited just by touching him, and while he couldn’t fathom the meaning of that, it still struck him as sort of fantastic. It was like for the first time he actually had some power in their relationship. 

Merlin lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. “He’s probably up there right now stroking off,” the boy thought, his own cock in his hand. 

The idea was oddly appealing and Merlin was very surprised by just how quickly he came that night. 

* * * * *

Merlin had no desire to play nursemaid forever. To that end, after he’d fed Arthur his breakfast and supplied him with things to read, he returned to the laboratory. He dragged out one of Gaius’ books on anatomy and poured over it to see if there was anything else he could do to get Arthur back up on his feet. 

The pictures were fairly gross, but highly detailed. He read over everything in that entire region of the body in case the pain was coming from somewhere else. The sooner they healed the pain in Arthur’s backside, the sooner the prince stopped being a pain in Merlin’s. 

The boy’s brow knitted together as he read over the notes on the prostate. It was not that it seemed to have anything to do with Arthur’s injury, it just seemed fascinating and he was easily distracted. 

“Can’t be,” he thought of the alleged properties of the bundle of nerves. 

He was, however, desperately curious. Masturbation was at the top of his list of favorite personal activities and he considered himself something of an expert on it. If there was a way to make it better, he had to know what it was. 

Merlin stole back into his room and stripped naked. His finger did not want to go into his hole, and he felt that forcing it to in was not so excellent a plan. He grabbed some oil he often used for his own purposes and applied that to his finger. That worked much better. 

It was a bizarre and indescribable sensation, pushing his finger in there, and not painful or awful but not pleasurable. Merlin wriggled and tried to get in deeper with his finger, but success eluded him. 

“That’s no good,” he thought, pulling his finger out. 

Merlin pondered what he might trust venturing up his bum. There were utensils at his bedside from various plates he had yet to clean up, but those held no appeal and seemed certain to cause him pain. There had to be…. Ah, yes! That would give him the extra reach, surely. 

The boy grabbed the salt shaker off the tray, emptied it and coated it with oil. With a face full of concentration, he eased the little glass object in, wincing a little as it stretched him. It was not unbearable, and in a moment it was forgotten as he concentrated on this allegedly amazing place that existed within him. Merlin knew his body very well, and he was a little miffed that some book thought it knew him better. 

“I figured it was all a big joke,” he muttered, as he rooted around inside himself. 

Then he briefly touched on something which sent a thrill dancing across his nerves. He froze in absolute shock. The books had not even hinted at the true marvel of the prostate. Merlin thought he had touched magic in his life, but that had been an absolute _sham_ compared to this. 

He had the absurd desire to run to his window and scream “I found my prostate!” 

Of course, he didn’t. 

He did, however, go looking for that spot again. A little to the left…. Up some…. It had to be further back and…. 

“Shite!” 

The one thing he had not figured on was just how slippery the salt shaker had become and how tentative his told had gotten. With a strange popping sound, the treacherous utensil leapt into his body, quite out of reach. 

In a panic Merlin ran around his room and clawed at his hair. What was he going to do? How could he get it to come back out again? Surely it would come out with everything else, or would it all get blocked up in there until he died? 

“Why do these things happen to me?” he whined and flopped on the bed to try and pry the thing out of him. 

The fact that it was now merrily rubbing against that special place was very distracting and, he felt, a tad insulting. Now was not the time, after all. 

“Merlin!” Gaius called. 

This had to be some sort of nightmare, Merlin felt. His father-figure was going to find him with a salt-shaker up his arse and no explanation in the world would make it sound less stupid. 

“Just a second!” he called, trying to coax the thing out of him. 

There was no luck to be had, however, and he had the horrible thought that he was going to have to get Gaius’ help. That had to be the final resort, though, since it would result in him dying of embarrassment. Merlin bit his lower lip and tried bearing down on the wretched thing (he was never having salt again) but it was no use. 

“Merlin, where are you?” 

“This can’t be happening.” 

Time was running out. The obvious answer finally occurred to him. He focused all his will and energy on that thing intruding itself upon him and it shot out of his ass like ass like a bolt from crossbow. It ricocheted off a wall and came back to knock him on the head, making him yelp. The pain was forgotten amidst the relief and the desperate scramble for clothes. 

Gaius eyed him when he came out of his room, panting and out of breath. A terribly awkward silence stole over them, ripe with questions Merlin didn’t want to answer. The man finally shook his head and told him to go find some foxglove. Merlin, feeling quite relieved that he was not being interrogated, dashed out to find the herb. 

Arthur was not in a jovial mood when Merlin showed up that evening, which made him instantly wary. “Have I done something?” he asked, bringing a fresh bowl of stew over. He couldn’t remember forgetting anything, that much was certain. 

The prince shook his head. “No. Just leave the food. You can have the night off.” 

Merlin smiled, thinking it was a joke. Then he saw it wasn’t a joke and he became even more baffled. “I have to apply to salve, at least. Can’t very well do that yourself, can you?” 

Arthur ate grumpily, not responding. 

“Look, if it’s about last night, me joking about you—” 

“Shut up, Merlin.” 

The prince was definitely sullen about something. Merlin did not know him nearly well enough to know what it might be, but he was sure he would be blamed for it eventually. 

“There’s nothing wrong with—” 

“Merlin!” 

“All right!” 

Arthur went back to eating in sullen silence. Merlin sat by, moody and pensive. It wasn’t like Arthur to miss a chance to tell him he’d done something wrong, so that meant at least he hadn’t committed some enormous cock-up. 

“Just smear the salve on and go then,” Arthur finally told him, rolling onto his stomach. 

Merlin grabbed the salve while the handsome prince hiked his nightshirt up. The young servant was very confused. Arthur had enjoyed his massage last night, he was absolutely certain of that much. What could possibly have gone wrong in that empty blond head since last Merlin had been here? 

He rubbed the salve into the man’s back as he had done the night before. Arthur was tense all over, fighting the relaxing feel of Merlin’s strong hands and long, nimble fingers. After a while, though, he began to melt. 

“Dammit,” he muttered. 

“What now?” 

Arthur didn’t immediately respond. “If you laugh, I’ll have you in the stocks for a month.” 

“All right….” 

“You were right. Your massage last night got me … excited.” 

“I told you there was nothing wrong wi—” 

“Merlin, do you ever stop prattling?” 

So much for “charming,” he thought. “Nervous habit.” 

“Anyway, so I was trying to take care of it last night and I couldn’t. It agitated my back too much.” 

Merlin didn’t laugh, but he was certain this was all a game. “Oh, yeah? Want me to do that for you too?” 

Arthur was alarmingly silent in the wake of his joke. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Merlin fretted, worried he’d taken their strangely casual relationship too far with his lewd joke. 

Arthur sighed. “You don’t have to. I mean, I could make you, but I don’t want to.” 

Merlin looked around for the joke and couldn’t discover its hiding place. “You’re having me on.” 

Arthur shrugged. “Never mind.” 

Merlin gaped at him. “Wait, then you weren’t able to…. Oh dear.” 

The purely male side of him empathized greatly with the prince just then. Being aroused and yet unable to do anything to satisfy it? For a whole day? That was a purgatory Merlin didn’t want to consider. 

He mulled it over while he massaged Arthur’s backside some more, going from shoulder to ankle to give himself more time to fret over the discomforting request. He supposed, on the grand scheme of things, it was far less gross than mucking out stables. 

“I’ll do it, but if you tell anyone, I tell the whole castle you fell off your horse.” 

Arthur was quiet for a time and then actually chuckled. “That’s fair.” 

He rolled over and well there was something Merlin didn’t see every day. The small, inoffensively soft and shriveled genitals of his lord had blossomed into something large, leaking and extremely stiff. 

Arthur smirked at him. “It’s okay to be jealous.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes. “The only part of you that amazes me with its size is your ego.” 

The servant settled next to his lord and looked into his face. He had never imagined what it might be like to touch Arthur this way and there was something enticingly wicked about it. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around the thick shaft and gave it a slow, tender stroke, just the way he liked to start on himself. 

Arthur looked away and then looked back, blushing crimson. “You’re a true friend.” 

“Remember that the next time you land me in your father’s ill graces.” 

Arthur sighed happily and let Merlin work. It was definitely odd, and unmistakably not his, and his brain was struggling to process the feeling from the hand that said “masturbation” and the message from his own cock that said, “all’s quiet here.” He was, however, hard, but he was accustomed to his prick swelling at inappropriate times. 

He stroked slow and then he stroked fast, and slowly he relaxed into the knowledge that he was doing this very private thing for his brash lord. His fingers were still slick with the salve, so they moved easily up and down the shaft, bringing more heat to it with every pass. 

After a while, it struck Merlin that for a man who had been aching for release, Arthur was not getting there very quickly. His lord came to the same realization and started to instruct him—well, order him would be more correct—and Merlin’s hand was getting tired so he did what he was told to no effect. 

“Dammit,” Arthur muttered in frustration. “I guess it’s not used to having someone else touch it.” 

Merlin had no idea what effect that familiarity might have, but he nodded anyway. “Shall I stop then?” 

Arthur let out a pitiable sigh. “Just a little more?” 

Merlin still felt bad for him, so he complied, but he could see it wasn’t going to work. It was just not enough to give his lord the release he needed. Merlin felt bad because in every way he looked at it, this was his fault. If only there was some way to give Arthur that little push…. 

“It’s not going to work,” Arthur said in despair. 

Merlin came to a decision before he had any chance to think too much about it. “I think I can manage you, but you have to trust me and you can’t tell anyone.” 

“At this point, I’m ready to Knight you if you can get me release.” 

Merlin smirked at the idea Arthur was so close to begging. He rolled the blond prince over carefully, trying not to upset his sore muscles. “I dunno if this will bother your back, but I need you to put your knees under you if you can.” 

Arthur did so, his desperation leading him into the darkened woods of blind faith. “It’s okay, for now.” 

Merlin got more of the salve on his fingers and then returned to gently stroking his liege, forcing himself to not think too much. “I read about something today that I think will help.” 

“Whatever it is, please just do it.” 

Merlin shrugged and slipped his index finger into the prince, all the way to the base. It was exceptionally tight, but didn’t feel disgusting in any way. In fact, the prince’s insides were every bit as velvety and smooth as his outsides were firm and muscled. 

“Merlin ... what are you doing?” Arthur’s voice was very calm considering that his servant had his finger stuck inside him. 

“I said you have to trust me.” 

“I don’t see that putting your finger in my arse will help.” 

“Just let me find the spot,” Merlin urged, twisting his finger back and forth experimentally. 

“All right, clearly this no— What did you just-- Unnn ! Merlin!” 

The servant gave his lord a cheeky grin. “There we go. I couldn’t reach it on myself, but I have a better angle with you.” 

“That’s nice. Can we save story time for later?” 

“Right, right.” 

Arthur was now moaning in a way that was fairly obscene. Merlin watched in wonderment as the blond man bucked into his grip and then pushed back against the probing finger, eager for both. This was working a great deal better than the simple masturbation had done, and Merlin felt flush with his success. 

“You’re a wizard, Merlin,” Arthur panted. 

“I’m not,” the boy said reflexively. 

“So close…” 

“To where? Oh, right….” 

Merlin realized that it was the perfect time to blackmail the prince into something, but then again, if he stopped Arthur might kill him, injury or no. So he kept going until that thick phallus in his grip shot a torrent into the bedclothes. 

Arthur collapsed in a very unregal way. 

Merlin smiled at him and waited for further instruction. When none were forthcoming, he gave the prince a verbal nudge. 

“So, you’re good then?” 

A vaguely satisfied grunt wafted up from the pillow. 

“Ah, good. So…. I’ll just be going then.” 

Another grunt came to his ears, which he took as dismissal. 

Merlin felt pretty smug about how things had turned out, all things considered. He certainly had verified the facts in that book. Arthur had been simply wild about having that prostate thing stimulated. Now, if only Merlin himself could find out what it was like. He doubted he could hope to get Arthur to return the favor. 

“Excuse me, lord, would you mind sticking your finger up my bum?” 

No, that wouldn’t go over well. He would just have to find something to reach that spot that wouldn’t get absorbed inside. Merlin was nothing if not a curious boy, and between his little taste earlier and the evidence from Arthur, he just had to know what it felt like. 

It was late and Gaius had gone off to bed, leaving Merlin to pilfer his laboratory for something suitable—ideally something that wouldn’t be missed. It had to be hard but not too much so, ideally with a curve to it and long enough to keep a hold of. Merlin went through various utensils, tools and ingredients until he spotted something suitable. 

It would need to be trimmed and shaped of course, and the skin looked none too pleasant, but underneath was a nice smooth, even slick surface. Delighted with his find, Merlin took the ginger root and started to modify it for his uses. 

The thorough working over of Arthur’s prick had left him quite antsy, so Merlin was naked in about two heartbeats upon arriving in his room. He got on his knees and tried pushing the root in and found it slick enough that it went without protest. Feeling triumphant, he pushed his little make-shift toy in deeper until it reached that spot. 

“Oh yes, that’s brilliant,” he sighed. 

He reached down to stroke his cock, thinking of Arthur and his little comment. Yes, if truth be told, he was jealous of Arthur and his normal-sized cock. Like everything else about the blond prince, it was perfect. Merlin bet _he_ never had anyone laugh at him when he got erect in public. 

It felt wonderful, the pressure on his inside and the friction on his cock and a warmth spread through the boy that was transcendent. He’d had some climaxes for the record books, but the one that was brewing was going to be the best ever, he was sure. 

The warmth inside him amplified and became a not altogether pleasant burning sensation that distracted him from the heady state of arousal he had achieved. It was, he reasoned, just the stretch and parts getting used that weren’t accustomed to it. However, it was getting worse and he decided to best have it over with. 

Merlin thrust a bit more vigorously and then the unexpected occurred-the root broke off inside of him. His eyes went huge in dismay at the same time that climax crashed into him. It caused his vision to blur with its intensity and it was a while before he was thinking clearly again. He collapsed in a heap on his bed. 

It was the searing burn in his ass that brought him around. 

Merlin had no idea what was going on, but panic was setting in. He bent his will on removing the latest thing to be lodged up his bum his insides, but his concentration was scattered by post-orgasm bliss and a few spoonfuls of agony. He clawed at the bed covers and reached back to see if he could grab onto the root, and found a small sliver. He tried to pry it out, but couldn’t get enough of a grip. 

Finally, the pain driving him to desperation, he scampered down to the laboratory to get a pair of tongs. Whimpering and feeling even more stupid than usual, he found the sliver, and after a half dozen tries, pulled the evil thing out of his ass. 

Merlin experienced relief when he saw no blood on it. 

That relief dissipated, though, when the burning did not go away. Something about the root had not reacted well with his insides and now he was sure he would die. He scampered about like the gangly, naked fool he was until he found a salve for burns. Certain he could not make things worse, he applied it and found to his immense relief that the pain was lessened. 

Clearly, sticking things up his bum was not a good idea. The good feelings were simply not worth the calamities that appeared to follow. Merlin shook his head and scampered back to bed before Gaius woke and asked him one of those embarrassing questions. 

Strangely, the last thing that he thought of when he fell asleep was Arthur’s prick in his hand, spewing jets of seed in one pulsating wave after another. 

* * * * *

Merlin was so eager to see Arthur again, he was actually skipping a little on his way to the royal bedchamber. Now that he could provide a service that his lord truly valued and could not provide to himself, he had something resembling leverage. What he could do with it, he had no idea, but he liked knowing it was there. 

To his surprise, Arthur was up and moving about when he came in; stiffly and with difficulty, but ambulant. Merlin was drawn up short, having assumed Arthur would continue to milk this for as long as possible. 

“You’re supposed to be in bed for at least one more day,” he said carefully. 

Arthur shrugged. “I needed to walk a bit.” 

He was back to being moody, which confounded Merlin. What could the royal prat have to complain about _now_? “As you see fit, of course.” 

Arthur drew himself up stiffly. “I must apologize, Merlin. My behavior was unacceptable.” 

“You’re just now picking up on that?” 

Arthur gave him a warning look. “I mean yesterday. You are my manservant—fates preserve me—and it is my responsibility to look after you. I took advantage of your kindness and that was dishonorable of me.” 

Merlin gaped at him. “Uh…. I’m afraid I have no idea what you mean.” 

“I used you.” 

“You do that all the time.” 

Arthur’s patience were thinning. “I used you in a sexual sense. It’s no different from dishonoring a chamber maid.” 

“It’s a _little_ different,” Merlin grumbled. He wished people would stop comparing his willowy build to that of girls. “You didn’t order me or anything. And if you had, I probably would have told you to get stuffed.” 

That startled the prince and brought a weak smile to his face. “I just bet you would have, too.” 

Merlin showed his teeth in a cheeky grin. “I did it because I wanted to.” 

He knew the words were a mistake when they were in the vicinity of his tongue, but by then it was just too late. Arthur’s face lit up with that great big “the world loves me” grin that always spelled trouble for anyone named Merlin in his employ. 

“You _liked_ it….” 

“Perhaps I misphrased.” 

“You liked it,” he said again, teasing. 

“Well, if you keep that up, I won’t be doing it again.” 

Arthur blinked at him. “You’re … willing to do it again?” 

Merlin’s cheeks flamed and he looked down at his feet. “Well, I was, but since you’re feeling better, there’s hardly any need for me to—oh, well, all right then.” 

Arthur had removed his nightshirt and was standing there in all his wretchedly handsome glory, his cock ready and willing. 

Merlin chewed the corner of his lip. “Just so I know, is this going to become a regular part of my duties? If so, I think I might ask for a raise.” 

Arthur smirked at him. “You get to play with the Earl. That’s all the reward you should need.” 

“The Earl? Please tell me you didn’t name it.” 

Arthur laughed. “When I was a boy and I was absolutely in love with my penis. I played with it all the time. And I decided that since it was the _royal_ penis it had to be the finest in the land, so I dubbed it the Earl of Prickdom.” 

Merlin stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. “You’re mental. All right, assume the position and we’ll see if we can’t make ‘the Earl’ happy. But that’s the last time I’m calling it that.” 

Something about Prince Arthur on his bed on his knees and leaning on his elbows made Merlin’s stomach do flip-flops. 

He got the salve and settled on the bed and started to massage the man’s lower back as he had the previous two nights. 

“You can’t be serious,” Arthur sighed. “Merlin, focus. My balls ache more than my back.” 

The boy smacked him on the ass, as one might do with a difficult horse, and only afterwards realized what he had done. “Oh dear. I’m _so_ very sorry.” His eyes were wide with horrified dismay. He was going to spend his life in the stocks. 

“I’ll forget all about it if you get busy with the fingers.” 

Merlin did so, wanting very much for Arthur to forget about that ill-advised spank. He slipped his slender index finger back where it had spent time the evening before and found the spot fairly quickly. His other hand went to his lord’s leaking prick. 

Soon, he had the blond prince panting and moaning with absolute delight. 

“Push that finger in deeper.” 

“It, uh, won’t go any deeper.” 

“Dammit,” Arthur complained. “Find something longer. That feels sooooo good.” 

“It was fine last night.” 

“Merlin….” 

“All right, all right.” Merlin was having fun and really didn’t want to rile Arthur up in the negative way. He looked around the room. Fireplace poker? Ouch, no. Half a loaf of bread? No, impossible. Curtain chords? Absurd. 

“There’s nothing, Ar— Uh, sire.” 

Arthur looked back at him and wiggled his bum playfully, his face a mask of naughty desire. “I think you have something.” 

“No really, there isn’t.” 

“It’s between your legs, stupid.” 

Merlin checked his pockets. “No, sire.” 

Arthur laughed helplessly. “You’re dense as brick, Merlin, truly.” He licked his lips. “I was talking about your prick.” 

Merlin stared at him. “What about it?” A light suddenly dawned. “Oh! You want me to…. With that? I’m pretty sure that will hurt you and that won’t end well for me.” 

“I want to try it. Now take off your clothes and give it to me.” 

It was so typically Arthur, Merlin decided. Everything belonged to him for his use. And apparently that included Merlin's dck. 

Merlin started pulling off his shirt. “I want it on record I think this is a bad idea. I don’t want you putting me in the stocks for this, since I did warn you and all.” 

Arthur winked at him. “Just get on with it.” 

Merlin took off his pants and his embarrassingly long penis popped into view. It was a constant source of shame for him, the way it was forever getting hard at inappropriate times and displaying itself obscenely for all to see. Like now, for instance. The very thought of venturing inside his lord’s body had it sticking up with rampant excitement. 

“Sorry, it gets like this on its own,” Merlin apologized. 

Arthur stared at the sizable cock with shock and jealousy. “It’s huge.” 

“I know, it’s freakish. I wish it were more normal like yours.” 

The prince glowered at him. “The Earl’s plenty big.” 

“I didn’t say it was small.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Nevermind. That will do the trick. Put some of that ointment on it and stick it in.” 

Merlin was still sure this would end disastrously, but he did as ordered. He climbed up behind his lord and positioned his cock, telling it to behave and not spurt all over the place. 

“It won’t fit,” he said dubiously, comparing his girth to the target. 

“Then go slow. Now, Merlin.” 

Merlin applied some of the ointment to his cock and found the tingly warmth of it entirely pleasant. He would definitely have to get Gaius to make some more. It made his prick feel more sensitive than it ever had. Merlin smiled blissfully as he slathered more of the happy concoction onto his organ. 

“Oh dear.” 

“What…? Merlin!” 

The boy chastised his willful prick with every curse word he knew. “Sorry! So sorry, that was my fault. Really sorry….” 

Arthur's back and arse were covered in man-juice, which was both very bad and sort of exciting. Merlin shook the latter thought off right away. He had bollocksed things up again and Arthur was never going to let him do these things any more, which was rotten luck because he was just starting to enjoy them and—“ 

Arthur was laughing. “Oh, Merlin.” 

He turned around and patted the boy’s cheek and looked into his deep blue eyes. “You are one in a million.” 

Merlin blushed. It wasn’t “charming” but it wasn’t “idiot” either. “I didn’t think. I’ll get some wash cloths.” 

The boy darted off and returned with some wet rags. Without being asked, he cleaned his lord’s backside of his spill and then reached for his clothes, determined to find some dark corner to hide in while he patched together his dignity. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Arthur tugged him down to the bed. Merlin looked abashed. “I thought maybe I should go die of shame somewhere.” 

Arthur tousled his hair. “It happens to all of us, don’t fret.” 

Their eyes met and something wild and new appeared between them. Arthur looked boyish and calm about it, but Merlin was nonplussed. The blond prince leaned in and gave him a soft, sweet kiss upon the lips. 

“You’re going to put this thing in me. I insist.” 

Merlin stared at him. The prince was actually touching him, _him_ and that meant that maybe things could be salvaged. No, it meant that the world had decided to start rotating backwards. 

Arthur cleaned the boy’s prick of the salve and then shoved him down to the bed. “I’ve always wanted to kiss the Earl, but couldn’t reach. So, I’ll try the next best thing.” 

Merlin was trying to follow all of the prince’s words, but suddenly and impossibly there was a very rough, very wet _tongue_ on his prick. Surely, this could not be Arthur doing this, the spoiled, self-centered prat who loved no one so much as himself. 

Yet it was. He stared at the blond head working busily at his cock and decided life could never get any better. 

“Not bad,” Arthur murmured as he licked away. “We just need to get you nice and hard.” 

“Tha—ah! –at won’t be a problem.” 

He could feel his cock beginning to swell, far sooner than it ever had before. It had never had such an amorous suitor before, though. Arthur was doing all manner of lewd and lascivious things to it that Merlin had never conceived of. His prick was reacting like a cobra to a snake charmer, which Merlin found embarrassing. 

“Now, Merlin, you’ve kept me waiting long enough,” his (his? When did that happen?) prince told him firmly, moving back to his elbows and knees on the bed. 

Merlin scrambled into position behind Arthur and slicked up, though not to excess this time. It would not be polite to simply ram home, he was sure and he needed to give his liege plenty of chances to change his mind. The head went in with no trouble and no evidence of protest from the young blond man. 

“You sure you want me to—” 

“Yes, you bloody twat, now!” 

“Keep your knickers on. Well, I suppose you can’t, really, but—” 

“Merlin!” 

“Right, sorry.” 

It was kind of interesting, watching inch after inch disappear into Arthur’s tight channel, listening to Arthur moan and gurgle into his pillow. Though it seemed impossible, his grotesquely large dick was actually going inside—all the way inside. 

The boy’s worries over how this would go wrong vanished as he was enveloped in pure heaven. Masturbation was a regular part of his life, but this was something else altogether. Not even the very recent introduction to the joys of oral sex could compare to it. He grinned in boundless joy as he settled his cock inside the prince’s muscular body. 

“This is fantastic!” Merlin gasped. “Brilliant!” 

Arthur shuddered and gibbered into his pillow. Merlin took that to mean he wanted his servant to massage that wonderful bundle of nerves with the handy tool he had stuffed inside his lord. Merlin happily obliged, pulling back and thrusting forward slightly. That elicited a sharp cry that made Merlin even harder. 

Arthur spread his knees and surrendered himself to the boy’s enthusiasm. There was no thought in Merlin’s head about anything but how great it felt and how much he wanted to keep doing it so the feelings would last forever. He hammered away, huffing heavily to the sweet music of Arthur’s impassioned cries. 

“Merlin, fffffnnnnnggg.” 

“I know, it’s amazing!” Merlin agreed. 

“Sl—uhhhfffnnn….” 

“Yeah, so good.” 

Curiously, he reached down and found that Arthur was somehow even harder than he had been before. That meant the prince was truly enjoying what they were doing which gave hope that Merlin might get to do this again someday. In mere moments of stroking, Arthur came over his hand, but his erection did not dim, so Merlin kept stroking and pounding, liking this “duty” far more than any of his others. 

Their moans mingled together and for once, they were in complete synch, joined in the pure purpose of achieving maximum enjoyment from each other. Arthur came again, and that time he cried out so loud it made Merlin’s own balls bunch up and expel their contents. They collapsed in a heap, sweaty and messy and no longer coherent. 

Arthur eventually wriggled so that the limp servant boy slid off him. Merlin rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, grinning from ear to ear. His body was still tingly from the best climax of his young life. 

“That was brilliant, wasn’t it? It was, absolutely. I mean, for me, how was it for you? I think you enjoyed it—” 

“Merlin….” 

“Right, shutting up.” 

“No, I was going to say that was the best thing I’ve ever felt. Which is good, because otherwise I’d have you strung up by your heels for riding me like that.” 

Merlin tried to suppress his smile and failed. “But it was good, yeah?” 

Arthur managed a hazy smile. “It was fantastic. I’m going to be saddle sore for days, but it was brilliant.” 

Merlin turned on his side and propped his head in his hand. “So, I’m not in trouble?” 

Arthur laughed softly. “No, but you can expect I’ll demand _that_ a few times a week.” 

“I can probably manage.” The idea of having his smug lord moaning and writhing helplessly under him made him squirm with pleasure. “How’s your back?” 

“You know? Whatever we did, it seems to be all right. Enough so for the next part.” 

“Next part of what?” 

“It’s your turn,” Arthur grinned at him in a decidedly dragon-esque way. 

Merlin’s eyes widened as he grasped what his blond lord might have in mind. “No, I think I’m good. Honestly.” 

“I trusted you, now you have to trust me.” 

“I trust you with my life, just not my arse.” 

“Merlin, don’t make me tie you to this bed.” 

“I’m just saying— Unf! Really, you don’t need to…. Oh, ow!” 

“Stop squirming!” 

“Keep your prick to yourself then!” 

“Just relax.” 

“Easy for you to say— AH! Oh…. Arthur!” 

The End


End file.
